


Club Can't Even Handle Me

by 27dragons, tisfan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dancing, Flirting, Gay Bar, Get Together, M/M, Rushed Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:34:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25509079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: The Avengers have gone undercover to find a target who’s been frequenting clubs and bars. It’s probably just a coincidence that Bucky and Tony have been assigned to cover this bar, but that doesn’t make it any easier for Bucky to watch Tony flirting his way across the dance floor.27dragons: Bucky Barnes Bingo: K3 - Undercover in a Gay Bar / Starkbucks Bingo G2 “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”tisfan Bucky Barnes Bingo C3 FREE / StarkBucks Bingo: G3 “Don’t Touch Him.”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Comments: 48
Kudos: 539
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020, StarkBucksBingo2020





	1. Chapter 1

The music was so loud it didn’t even make noise anymore, just straight up, physically imposing _sound_. There was logic in there somewhere, but the throbbing beat was heavy enough that Bucky wasn’t sure what the logic was.

He scowled at his drink, took a sip. It was what Tony called a boat drink, loads of fruit juice, decorative toothpicks and quite a lot of alcohol underneath. He was starting to wonder if he could drown in it, but at least it tasted good.

Also, he wasn’t Steve, who couldn’t get drunk at all.

So, that was good. 

He gazed around the bar again, trying to find a hint of something _off_ in the crowd. The problem was, Bucky couldn’t identify a mutant unless they were currently using their powers, or had weird hair or horns or glowing eyes. And this was a gay bar, so everyone was sporting those looks as _fashion accessories_.

Tony didn’t seem to be having this problem. He was out on the dance floor, ridiculous drink in one hand as he danced from little group to little group. Stopping to grind for a moment with the loners, wink and flirt, easy as breathing. Every so often, he would playfully stick a finger into someone else’s drink and lick it off -- for their outing, he’d put on a vibrantly pink nail polish that looked surprisingly good on him (or maybe not surprising, because everything looked good on Tony, damn it) that, he’d confided, would turn blue if it came into contact with any of a number of known date rape drugs.

They were fairly sure the guy they were after was using mutant powers to grab his victims -- that’s why the Avengers had been brought in, anyway -- but Tony had said it never hurt to be sure. Especially if the guy knew someone was after him.

Four weekends in a row, their target -- don’t get hung up on the idea that it’s a man, Barnes, women can be just as duplicitous -- had hit someone on this strip. He did not raise a hand to press it to his ear. He could hear Nat just fine, although it was tempting to try to block out some of the music. She was reporting in at her chosen watering hole. The music on her end sounded even worse--

Someone was pushing closer to Tony, tall, broad shouldered, moved like a piece of industrial machinery. Tony laughed, but Bucky could see the way his eyes tightened, just a little, and stepped back.

Bucky slung back the rest of his drink and decided to go _get involved_.

“--said the most absurd thing,” Tony was saying (shouting) as Bucky got closer, fake smile wide and personable, telling some outlandish story. “And you won’t believe what he-- Oh, James!” The grin turned just a shade desperate as Tony spotted Bucky. He darted over and threw an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, which was hilarious, because Tony was several inches shorter than Bucky, even in heels.

“Hey doll,” Bucky said. “Wanna dance?”

Tony gave him a patently-false pout. “I’ve been waiting all night for you to ask, sugarlips.”

The lawn mower man scowled, pushing into their personal space. “I was here first, go find your own--” He grabbed Tony’s arm and attempted to drag Tony in the other direction.

“Whoa, hey! Hands off the merchandise!”

“Don’t touch him,” Bucky said. He reached out with the metal hand, encircled the man’s wrist and squeezed. It was just a warning, enough to leave a bruise, but Bucky could have easily crushed the man’s wrist without even thinking about it.

Tony broke free of the man’s grasp and retreated another couple of steps. “Rude.” He snuggled up against Bucky’s side. “Come on, James, let’s go find some fun.”

There was a lot of fun that Bucky would have liked to have with Tony, but-- well, it was Tony, and while they’d finally figured out how to work together without snarling at each other like a couple of wolves fighting over territory, Bucky was pretty sure that Tony didn’t actually like him all that much.

That said, lawn mower man was still watching them, so leaving Tony alone on the dance floor was not recommended. He found them a relatively clear spot of floor by glaring at anyone closer than six inches. He put one hand on Tony’s waist -- Jesus Christ, the man had a tiny waist, and gorgeous hips and -- and drew him into a dance.

Bucky was not Steve, which meant Bucky had bothered to learn modern dance. Enough to look good in clubs and blend in. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that Nat had taught him, either.

He didn’t know who’d taught Tony, but whoever they were, they’d done a damn fine job. Tony bounced and swayed and _gyrated_ , turning to brush that delectable ass against Bucky’s thigh, and turning again to slide his leg between Bucky’s. Those bambi eyes of his were a temptation any day of the week; right now they were downright sinful. Was he wearing _makeup?_

Bucky tried to concentrate on dancing, and watching the crowd for any sign of their perp, and at the same time, he was desperately thinking of unpleasant things, because Tony was close enough -- and Bucky’s jeans were tight enough -- that he’d notice if Bucky sprouted wood.

“You keep looking around like that, I’m going to think you’re not all that interested,” Tony said with another of those teasing pouts. He did a little shimmy that dropped him nearly to the floor before sliding his way back up Bucky’s body.

“Yeah, like you need my approval,” Bucky said. “Every guy in the joint is lookin’ at you like you’re prime roast.” Bucky wouldn’t mind taking a bite, either, come to that, but Tony was his _co-worker_ , not his date. 

“Except the one I want,” Tony said, close enough now that Bucky could feel Tony’s breath on his neck.

Tony was nothing if not into the role. Well, if he was going to play that way, Bucky could play that game, too. He tipped his chin to look down, his movements going just a little slower than the music, swirling heat and rhythm, his best sultry, bedroom eyes. He didn’t even have to fake it, he would have looked at Tony like that any time Tony wanted, would have gone with him any time Tony had _asked_.

It just wasn’t going to happen, and Bucky needed to remind himself of that before he got lost in those brilliant honey-brown eyes.

Then Tony’s arms were wrapping around his neck, and maybe he could just pretend for a _little_ bit longer. Tony’s body undulated against his, matching Bucky’s rhythm beat for beat, as if the rest of the club didn’t even exist.

Astonishing, in a room full of people, and his super soldier senses were practically overwhelmed -- the alcohol helped, but not a lot -- Bucky could still smell Tony’s cologne. He leaned in closer, his nose going right to that pulse point behind Tony’s ear. It was hard to resist licking the skin there, almost a herculean effort, but-- “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”

Tony hummed, his hand tightening on the shirt Bucky was wearing as if he were clinging tighter, not wanting to part. “We’re blending in with the crowd,” he said, his breath tickling the hairs on Bucky’s neck, sending a shiver down Bucky’s spine.

“Well, that’s doomed to failure, doll,” Bucky said, and it seemed like his hand was moving of its own volition, down Tony’s back to slip into his back pocket. Jesus, was he wearing underwear? Probably not, Bucky would guess, and he lost any last bit of control over the hardon. “You always stand out.” He tried to let go, to back away before Tony _noticed_ , damn it.

Despite the throbbing music drowning nearly everything out, he heard the way Tony’s breath caught. “Bucky...” Tony wasn’t dancing now, more just leaning into Bucky’s body, pressing into him and-- _Oh_. Bucky wasn’t the only one with a problem in his pants.

The part of him that had struggled to get better, to get on the team, to be worthy of staying there, the part that had tried, and tried harder, to let go of the things that he’d done as the Winter Soldier, the guilt he felt. That part of him had no idea what to do with Tony feeling anything for him, even just straight up lust, which was a normal, human reaction. Wasn’t sure what he should say, or do, or how he should act.

The problem was, that part was getting drowned out by the tension between them, the desire to peel Tony out of those ridiculous clothes and pin him down somewhere. Yeah, that part was decidedly making a tiny squeaky noise and then hiding under the bed or something.

Bucky gave Tony a solid six seconds to let go before he lowered his head and took possession of Tony’s mouth.

If he’d had any doubts at all about Tony’s sincerity, the delicious little moan Tony let out would have extinguished them entirely.

His mouth opened to Bucky’s, hot and wet and perfect, his tongue sliding along Bucky’s, tasting and testing, letting Bucky map out his mouth and lips. He shivered at the flick of Bucky’s tongue at the corner of his lips and clutched Bucky tighter. “Oh god,” he groaned as they parted, only far enough to breathe.

_Tactical genius_ , Bucky thought, blurry, mapping their trajectory from the dance floor to one of the walls, where he could pin Tony up against it. “I am gonna--”

“Whatever it is, Soldier, I don’t want to hear about it,” Cap said, sharply in Bucky’s ear. “You know you’re live, right?”

“I could stand to hear a bit more,” Hawkeye chirped.

“Not right now,” and that was Widow. “We’ve got our target here, at Lone Star Saloon. Why did I end up taking the country-western place? This music is shit to fight to.”

“Just ‘cause you don’t know how,” Hawkeye said. “I keep telling you, we need to--”

Tony reached up and plucked the comm out of Bucky’s ear, then pulled out his own. “They can handle this without us,” he said. His head cocked slightly, eyebrow raised.

Bucky decided to go ahead and go for it; Tony hadn’t been discouraging him at all, and he was pretty sure that Tony could shut him down cold, if it was something Tony didn’t want. “I think I can handle _you_ without _them_ ,” he said. Three steps to the left, then straight, making Tony walk backward until that perfect ass came in contact with the wall. 

As soon as it did, Bucky was right up in his personal space, hips moving, pushing them together, rubbing himself against Tony’s thigh. It was like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch, and it was making it worse and more delicious at the same time. _I want you, so bad._ He didn’t quite dare say it, but he let himself be drawn up against that mouth again, taking his time, this time, tasting, exploring, feeling the way Tony moved against him. Like there was nothing else in the world, except the music, Tony, and the heat between them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 27dragons Bucky Barnes Bingo K5 Kink: Rushed Sex / StarkBucks Bingo N3 FREE space  
> Tisfan: Bucky Barnes Bingo B3 - Kink: Harder, StarkBucks Bingo N3 Free Space

Tony thought he was going to melt in the heat. He was already sizzling from it, ready to boil over, just from the press of Bucky’s body against his, all that hard muscle and smooth skin, and there were at least two too many layers of clothes between them.

Grinding against the wall wasn’t anything unusual -- there were at least three other couples Tony could see without even turning his head, taking advantage of the shadows along the walls. But he’d spent too much of the night dancing with strangers, pretending to flirt while feeling the weight of Bucky’s gaze on his back, and he didn’t want to wait any longer for the dance he _really_ wanted.

The next time they came up for air, Tony fisted his hand in Bucky’s shirt and dragged them sideways, not quite pushing away from the wall -- his knees were already wobbly from those searing kisses and he wasn’t sure he could manage it, to be honest, but pulling them along it until they reached the door Tony had marked much earlier.

The night air was almost shockingly cool against Tony’s skin; his ears rang in protest as the music was suddenly muffled. Tony managed to pull away from Bucky’s mouth long enough to reorient. “Garage,” he panted. “Limo.”

“Yeah,” Bucky growled, not taking his eyes off Tony’s face. He touched Tony’s lip with his metal thumb, brushing over the tender skin. “Yeah, okay.”

Finally he looked away, and Tony felt like a weight had been taken off him in the worst way, able to think and move and see the way he hadn’t when Bucky was looking at him. The problem? He didn’t really want it to stop. Bucky never looked at him, hadn’t really seemed to see Tony at all. Right up until they went into the club together, and then Bucky couldn’t seem to stop looking.

At first Tony wasn’t sure if the man was pissed off that Tony could blend in, could look like he was enjoying himself, even if he wasn’t. That was just training, Tony could have told Bucky. _Years_ of practice. Fake it til you make it and all that.

But then he’d come over to send that Neanderthal packing -- not that Tony couldn’t have dealt with the ass himself, but it would have taken longer -- and the way he’d looked at Tony... Years of practice, and even _Tony_ couldn’t fake desire _that_ well. Which had been a surprise. A very welcome one.

Limo, he reminded himself. Big back seat. Privacy windows. Lube and condoms, because Tony was always prepared. “This way,” he managed, pulling at Bucky’s arm.

“Right behind you,” Bucky said. He ran a hand down Tony’s back, like he was escorting Tony to some fancy shindig, but then he got a little dirty with it, fingers exploring the curve of Tony’s ass, before giving him the lightest swat. _Hurry up._

Tony was _hurrying_ , damn it. He’d done this sort of thing enough that Bucky’s teasing touches didn’t make him trip over his own feet, but it was still all kinds of distracting. He managed to put on a mostly cool face by the time they’d made their way to the front of the garage, where Happy was lounging with the other valet drivers, shooting the breeze. “Get the car, Haps,” Tony said.

Happy’s eye was drawn immediately to the line of Bucky’s arm, reaching behind Tony, and he jumped to his feet. “You got it, boss. Two shakes.” He clapped one of the garage valets on the arm and hustled into the depths.

“Two minutes,” Tony murmured, mostly in response to the way Bucky’s fingers kept dipping lower and lower.

Bucky made a throaty growl, pressing closer to Tony like a vampire who wanted to just get a little drink, his lips moving over Tony’s skin, the lightest of butterfly brushes. “Can you wait that long, doll?” 

Christ, could his dick get any harder? Apparently, it could. “I’m not saying it’s what I _want_ to do, but I’ve been arrested for public indecency before,” Tony responded, “and it’s not as much fun as you’d think.” He could hear the growl of the limo’s engine, though, so salvation was at hand.

Bucky hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t usually stick around long enough t’ get arrested,” he confided, which was a well known fact, really, and then he licked the shell of Tony’s ear, blowing cool air over wet skin. 

Tony was pretty sure that he was a genius, that he’d revolutionized multiple technological fields and saved the world a couple of times as well. Right now, with Bucky doing that, he very much doubted whether he could add two numbers together.

Luckily, the limo pulled up before he could test his kindergarten-level math. He waved for Happy not to bother getting out and opened the door himself, ushering Bucky in ahead of him.

Happy had already put up the privacy partition, which Tony was absolutely going to give him a bonus for. 

Later. When he could think again. Right now, all he could manage was a mental _hrnng_ at the sight of Bucky sprawled on the limo’s bench seat, knees spread wide and eyes dark with wanting. Tony slammed the door shut behind him and clambered onto Bucky’s lap. He tangled his fingers in Bucky’s hair and used it to pull Bucky’s head back so Tony could get another taste of that sinful mouth.

Bucky lifted up, hips working to grind against Tony while they necked frantically, eager and hurried, wanting, wanting. “Whooo,” Bucky finally said, gasping as they parted, his hand on the buttons of Tony’s shirt, opening it slowly. “What-- is this _happening_?” Bucky looked shocked and eager, horny and hesitant all at the same time.

“Assuming you want it to, then yes,” Tony said decisively. “Though there’s not much traffic this time of night, so we’re going to want to be quick about it.” There was something hot about that, anyway, rushing through it, frantic and desperate. He smacked open the console compartment and pulled out the lube and a strip of condoms.

Bucky’s eyes went wide and dark, the hesitation wiped away, and he was rolling Tony over, cradled between Tony’s thighs to grind against him. “I-- yeah, I want to.” He brushed metal fingers over Tony’s cheek with infinite tenderness, and then practically stole Tony’s breath with a kiss as deep and dirty as anything he’d thus far experienced. Like Bucky was eating him alive, little nips and deep thrusts of his tongue, the whole time his breathing was hot, heavy against Tony’s cheek. 

Tony groaned and started tugging at Bucky’s shirt, worming his hand between them to yank at the button of his jeans. “Off,” he demanded, “take them off.” He needed no barriers between them, skin on skin. He twisted and wriggled and flailed a little bit to get his own pants off, flinging them across the cabin, and then grabbed for the lube.

“They ain’t goin’ far,” Bucky complained, struggling. “Practically greased m’legs gettin’ into ‘em.” But he got the belt off and shoved the jeans down around his thighs, pale skin dotted with press-creases, from how tight they were. “Jesus, you really weren’t wearin’ drawers, were you?”

“Of course not,” Tony said. He propped one foot up against the wall and shoved two fingers into himself, smearing the lube around liberally. “Suit up,” he suggested, nodding toward the strip of condoms. “I know you can’t catch anything, but I can’t throw the limo bench in the wash.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Bucky said, unable to drag his gaze away from Tony’s fingers, reaching blindly for the condoms and probably finding them on luck alone. He ducked his head and lipped over Tony’s cock, tongue a slick and heated swirl over Tony’s skin.

Tony moaned at the shiver of sensation that sent through him, electric and powerful. “Christ, you’re going to kill me.” He twisted his fingers, stretching himself -- Bucky was going to be big, if the shape pressing into Tony’s leg earlier was telling the truth. “Come on, let’s-- Want you now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky said, nodding his head. He gripped the back of Tony’s thigh with his metal hand, and then lined them up with the other. “I gotcha, doll. I--” He pushed forward, slow, watching Tony’s face intently, as if Tony was the most beautiful, most precious thing Bucky had ever seen. “I have you.”

Yeah, Bucky was definitely big, maybe not the longest Tony had ever seen but thick, pushing into Tony until it felt like there wasn’t enough room left in him for air. He took a few breaths, focusing on it, feeling it, letting it overwhelm him... and then pass. “You’ve got me,” he repeated, panting. “Move now.”

“Fuckin’ pack my bags an’ _live here_ ,” Bucky growled. “Don’t you feel fine? So goddamn tight.” But he moved, slow and sensual, rocking his hips against Tony, a slick slide until he was in to the hilt. He pulled back, almost all the way out until Tony was gasping and squeezing, to keep him from leaving. “Got you,” Bucky repeated, and then he was moving, thrusting into Tony, claiming his mouth at the bottom of the movement, his tongue urgent, repeating the motion of his body.

Tony rocked up into it, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s hips. “Harder,” he demanded breathlessly, letting his fingers dig into the muscles of Bucky’s back and shoulders. “More, Bucky, please...”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear ya,” Bucky said, dropping into that Brooklyn drawl. He pushed Tony’s thigh back until the muscle in his hip burned. Harder. He had Tony practically bent in half like a hairpin, the grind and thrust eager, until Tony’s whole body was burning up with it. He could feel Bucky’s mouth, his breath, every inch of exposed skin. And through the whole thing, those gorgeous blue eyes barely blinked, drinking in every expression on Tony’s face, every shudder of his body.

Heat rolled through Tony in waves, until he was burning up, literally uncertain he could stand any more. He grabbed for his cock, stroking roughly with his still lube-covered hand. It made his breathing turn rough and jagged. “Bucky,” he groaned, “Come on, come on, I want to feel it, want you to.”

“Feelin’ every bit of you, doll,” Bucky said, moving faster, grunting with pleasure at each stroke until he was practically moaning constantly. “So good, you’re so good, I-- oh, Jesus, _Tony_.”

The sound of his name in Bucky’s mouth, that desperate cry, loosened something in him that had been drawn taut and straining. His head fell back and he cried out as he came, a release that whited out his vision for a few seconds and then brought the world back in a shimmering haze of pleasure.

Bucky rested his forehead on Tony’s, panting for breath. Somehow that seemed even more tender, sweeter and more intimate than anything he’d done. “That was… somethin’ else. Here, hang on a sec, lemme breathe--”

Tony nodded weakly and waved vaguely at the console, where there should be a pack of wipes for cleanup. He didn’t want to move to reach for it, though. He wanted to just lie here, feeling the way Bucky’s pulse was slowly returning to normal, the air in his lungs, the gentle caress of Bucky’s breath against his skin. “Breathing is good,” he managed. “Definite quality of life improvement.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, okay, wise guy. Hold on--” He grimaced, gripping the ring of the condom to hold it in place, and pulled back. He slid it off and tied it closed. “You are some kinda boy scout, I swear.” He dug around in the console and got the wipe pack, taking one and gently, infinitely tender, wiped Tony’s chest and belly.

“Yeah, later, if you’re lucky, I’ll show you my badge collection,” Tony quipped, but it was hard to put in the right level of flippancy while Bucky was looking at him with those big, soft eyes.

“Oh, is that what you’re gonna show me?” Bucky wondered. “Let’s get your pants on, yeah? Don’t want everyone _else_ t’ see what you got.”

Through the tinted windows, Tony could see Avengers Tower looming, so he hummed and wriggled back into his pants with a faint sigh. “So was this... You want to get dinner tomorrow?”

Bucky gave him a straight up sinful smirk. “I was thinkin’ more like making you breakfast.”

A little spark of heat, at that, wrapped in a tender warmth. “No reason it can’t be both.”


End file.
